


Then Finally A Dawn

by raendown



Series: Amends to the Dead [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Stalking behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22572337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Months after the village is built Izuna is near his breaking point. Peace is nice, don't get him wrong, but he could do without the pale shadow that follows behind him everywhere he goes. All he wants is to understand. What the hell is Tobirama's obsession with watching him?
Relationships: Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Izuna, Uchiha Izuna & Uchiha Madara
Series: Amends to the Dead [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518203
Comments: 49
Kudos: 287





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Birkastan2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birkastan2018/gifts).



> Another "Requested Work" for the lovely Birkastan, without whom this series would perhaps not even have gotten off the ground. Thank you for all the support and kind words!

Grey clouds and a dreary sky greet him when Izuna leaves the administration tower this afternoon, a dour forecast for the evening’s weather. Determined to keep a positive attitude, he tells himself that at least it is holding off for now, will hopefully keep itself in check until after he finishes his inspection. That massive dream-headed idiot of a Senju wants a wall around their settlement but as much as Izuna freely agrees with the tactical benefits of such a barrier he is glad Madara has managed to talk the man in to waiting rather than just springing something up out of the ground willy-nilly. Although several clans and minor villages have already emigrated to join them there are still others they hope to bring in to the fold as well. If Hashirama grows a wall around them at their current size it will ostracize any new districts built in the future – not to mention that such a short-sighted buffoon will almost definitely forget to leave room for population growth as the years go on.

Hence why Izuna has saddled himself with the boring task of trudging his way around the outskirts to scope out where they can expand, how far, whether some portions of the surrounding terrain should be left available to grow crops, that sort of thing. Trying to keep his thoughts grand scale, the first thing he does is make the long climb up the mountain face overlooking them all. From there he is granted a wonderful view of all they have built so far and all the space they have to build upon in the future. Izuna does his best to sketch what he sees on several different pieces of paper and includes the surrounding terrain as little symbols. Later he can use these sketches to create different proposals for wall construction.

Considering how often he changes his mind he intends to make at least five copies. He only gets halfway through the fourth before his hand freezes in place and his eyes slowly roll to one side, looking around without actually turning his head. It’s a useless endeavor anyway. Even if he turns all the way around and carefully inspects every inch of the space behind him Izuna knows he will see absolutely nothing.

Tobirama is better than that.

Weirder than the fact that his counterpart has been following him around like a lagging shadow for weeks now is the fact that there doesn’t seem to be a reason for it. The man hasn’t even gone to the trouble of suppressing his chakra. Izuna might not be a sensor type like his brother is but he isn’t so chakra-blind that he can’t tell when someone he’s spent years on the other side of a war from is nearby. He might be tempted to think the other man is mocking him somehow if not for the fact that Tobirama never once alludes to his little stalker habit when they are forced to interact in the tower. If anything his habit worsens during work hours. Very few days go by when Izuna does not turn around to find Tobirama hovering over him or staring intently from across the room.

Knowing that his old rival has been up to the same idiocies all day – just as every other day – is not very comforting but it makes his movements a little less awkward as he decides that he’s taken up enough time loitering here at the top of the cliff. It’s odd, the things one can get used to after being exposed for long enough. Having someone follow him around isn’t exactly comfortable but it’s something he learned to live with as soon as he concluded that it isn’t a statement of the Senju’s lack of trust. Not the clan as a whole, at least.

If there were anyone they don’t trust it would be Madara and no one follows him around. Izuna cannot imagine them wasting their best on him while assigning someone lesser to tailing his more dangerous older brother. The Senju have never been a stupid enemy.

Almost worse than the strangeness of knowing that he is being followed is trying to decide how to act. Izuna packs his sketches away and does everything he can to resist the urge to turn around and search for the face he knows is watching, reflecting that he isn’t actually sure what Tobirama will do if he confronts the man. When this first started Izuna hadn’t really known what to think of it, held off on reacting in any way in case he was misinterpreting something, and now that he knows for sure that the other is following him he realizes he’s let it go on for so long that bringing it up now will only be more awkward. They need to talk about it at some point, obviously. Just maybe not right this second.

Using that excuse only gets less and less valid with every day.

With a grand overview of the village fresh in his mind Izuna refocuses himself on the task at hand and begins drafting a few tentative blueprints in his mind while he scales his way back down the cliff. Halfway down he makes a mental note to suggest they install an easier way to get up here somehow. It doesn’t take a genius to guess that any tourists or visitors will be very interested in the view of a village so important to the history of the five great nations, the first of its kind. Then he pushes the thought away in to the corner of his mind for ‘things to deal with later’; he has much more important business at hand. Before they can welcome any tourism they need to be more solid in their defense of the people already here.

Senju Touka stands in the center of the road leading in to their settlement from the north when he arrives. Izuna is quick to hide the grimace that appears as soon as he catches sight of her. Enemies they might not be any longer but Touka is not likely to ever be his favorite person. Too brash, too hard, and too focused on being a warrior without ever allowing herself to still be a woman. Izuna enjoys a tough skin as much as the next shinobi but he needs friends and lovers who allow themselves to unclench at least once in a while. The woman before him carries a look on her face even when making no expression which tells him she probably hasn’t unclenched since the first time she learned to wield her body as a weapon.

“Nothing to report,” Touka’s voice rings out sharp even when she speaks quietly. He nods once to show that he understands.

“Border inspection,” he grunts back.

“Already? With all the paperwork that goes through the Tower I had guessed it would take at least another week for anyone to even think about doing something useful about their own ideas.” She snorts and this time Izuna allows the grimace that slides back over his face.

With a rueful sigh he shakes his head. “I gave myself the job for just that reason. This needs to get done.”

“Lots of things need to get done,” Touka mumbles dryly. Her eyes flick back down the path and her chin dips to signal someone else. “The others can walk the road; if I’m going to guard the wall when it goes up I’d like to hear your thoughts on where it’s to be built.”

Since there is really no polite way to refuse her Izuna shrugs and turns away without waiting to see if she follows. If she can’t keep up that’s her own problem. He isn’t the one who invited her along. Just as he finishes the thought her footsteps come from behind and her severe face returns to his peripherals with the blank expression of someone waiting to form an opinion.

That gives him an idea, actually, speaking of opinions. As the two of them travel in silence he lets his eyes roam around the terrain on all sides, mentally comparing it to the visual he remembers from above even as another part of his mind races trying to find the wording for how to broach a subject that many still consider sensitive.

“If I may, I’d like to ask about the climate in your clan,” he says eventually. Touka gives no physical reaction, betrayed only by the caution in her tone as she replies.

“You may ask your questions.” He notices that she has promised him no answers.

“Tensions were high for a while after we first merged our territories. Obviously it’s going to take a number of years before our people can coexist with true ease but – for my own clan at least – I’ve noticed massive improvements. What I mean to ask is: what of your own clan?”

“What of them?” Touka grunts.

Careful not to show his temper, Izuna keeps his voice low so it will not carry to other ears following along behind them. “Have the tensions eased in your people? Or do they still fear mine like enemies?”

“Fear isn’t exactly how I would describe it,” his unwanted companion muses. “Caution would be more accurate.”

“Do they distrust us so much?” he presses.

To his utter lack of surprise Touka turns to give him a sharp warning look. “Don’t go looking for trouble where there is none, Uchiha. Our people distrust yours no less than yours return in kind. Like you said yourself, it’s going to take years to erase the effects leftover from generations of war. Those of us who lived through it may never recover entirely. But”-from the corner of one eye he watches her move both hands away from her weapons in a deliberate motion-“we recognize and accept that the Uchiha want this peace to work. “

“Ah. Thank you for your input, Touka-san. I had thought that was how things stand but at this stage assumptions aren’t safe to be relied upon. Let’s change the subject. We’re thinking of building out from the current settlement to allow for growth but I don’t think this particular area would be good for that. Doesn’t the ground here turn in to swamp a few miles out?”

While she does allow him to change topics without comment Izuna notes the lingering gaze from the corner of her eyes to the corners of his own. He lets her stare. If they truly are allies then he has nothing to fear from a couple of eyes that don’t even have the advantage of a Sharingan. Rumor says this woman is nearly as good with genjutsu as any Uchiha but it would need to be some kind of skill indeed to trap him in an illusion he can’t escape – and besides that there is really no reason for her to do any such thing unless she wants to start another war.

Instead the two of them trade mild opinions on the surrounding land and discuss construction plans all while pretending they don’t notice the acid undertones or the barbs hidden in their words. Much as he is loathe to admit it, by the time they make a half circuit around the village and Touka declares it time for her to turn back he almost finds himself reluctant to see her go. Almost. Sometimes it’s nice to find someone who can withstand the worst of his vitriol. He is still firm on his belief that Touka will never be one of his favorite people but perhaps they can stand each other a little better than he first imagined.

The rest of his patrol around the perimeter is done in silence with no one to talk to but the thoughts inside his own mind, probably the most intelligent conversation he is likely to have all day. Rather than give that Senju woman any reason to look at him funny again Izuna ends his inspection by ducking in between some of the housing built on the fringes like afterthoughts.

He could have done without some of the man’s habits and opinions but if there is one thing Izuna wishes their brothers had actually listened to Tobirama about it’s the road planning. Caught up in their dream as they had been, Madara hadn’t so much held Hashirama back as he had egged the man on to raise frames and rooves without a single thought for the carefully drawn street maps Tobirama had been trying to present them with. Now everyone else pays the price for it as they wind their way through crisscrossing streets that often follow no logical direction whatsoever, haring off towards wherever Hashirama had raised the next home. Surely it can only be the mercy of the kami that made him finally stop and listen to his sibling before he made a similar mess of the village center.

Finding his way through the busy foot traffic is infinitely easier once he reaching the districts where the streets are wider than his own wingspan, leaving plenty of room for Izuna to duck and weave around the gaggle of children chasing each other, wild laughter ringing over the crowds with no regard for the different clans they each belong to.

This, he has come to understand, is the peace that Madara has been dreaming of since they were young boys clinging to each other with all their strength, the last of their siblings and so desperate not to lose any more. In some ways he wishes he had understood earlier. He also hopes that the idiot following along behind him on a nearby rooftop understands the same.

When he reaches the tower Izuna heads straight for his office and rather pointedly shuts the door behind him, relieved to note Tobirama’s distinctive chakra moving off to hopefully be productive somewhere else. How the man gets anything done when he’s following other people around all day is a mystery but Izuna is just as glad to finally be alone. It’s much easier to concentrate on drawing up a few difference proposals for wall construction when he doesn’t have some part of his concentration occupied with the ever-watching eyes over his shoulder.

Unfortunately for all that he’s always been fast at coming up with plans he is also, given the time, a perfectionist. What should only take him a mere twenty minutes to sketch some rough blueprints turns in to nearly two hours of meticulous lines and painstaking notes along the edges of every paper to list the benefits of each different proposal. Izuna is already rolling his eyes at himself by the time he finally drags his body up out of the chair with a firm mental declaration that any further additions will be a waste of time. Only one of these proposals can be chosen as the final plan and the entire council will be looking over it to add their suggestions. No one expects him to think of everything himself.

Seeing Madara roll his eyes as well when he lets himself in to his brother’s office makes him stick out his tongue, a gesture the man returns without pause. Dignity isn’t exactly a concern when they are alone.

“Took you long enough,” is his greeting. “Didn’t you leave to do that just after noon? It shouldn’t have taken you that long just to walk in a big circle and doodle a couple outlines. What did you do, take a nap in a tree somewhere?” Madara tuts and shakes the handle of a brush at him, then he frowns and looks down at the parchment he’s just splattered with ink.

“Pardon me for doing my job well,” Izuna grumbles.

“Well give them here then. Looks like you have several ideas. That’s good, actually. I know it sounds counterintuitive but the bloody elders actually decide faster if we give them more options.”

The two of them share a tired look and Izuna nods understandingly as he tosses his papers on the desk. “Fewer options always means one person picks a favorite right away and another person takes exception to that. Best to let them talk it all out first, I get it.”

Madara spreads the sketches out and fiddles with the end of one, lifting it only to turn his eyes to another.

“Do you have any you’re particularly attached to before I look them over?” he asks.

“No.”

He should know to watch his tone. It’s only a single word but the moment it leaves his mouth Izuna winces, pinned in place under the sudden scrutiny of dark eyes that know him just a little too well.

“You sound upset by something,” Madara notes. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say wrong, precisely. I’m being followed around again and I still don’t like it.” It’s gratifying to see the other man scrunch his face up with distaste. At least he isn’t the only one who finds this situation endlessly odd.

“Still not talking to you about it, I suppose?”

“Not a damn word. Any time I bring it up he just stares at me with these…empty eyes. Honestly sometimes I’m tempted to worry that he’s been possessed by some demon with a grudge against me. Somehow that would make more sense!” Izuna shakes his head, stepping around to slump his body in to the single visitor chair available. Then he squirms uncomfortably as a floral scent wafts up his nose. It’s easy to tell who usually sits in this chair.

Fingers twiddling absently at the edges of the papers spread out on his desk, Madara rolls his eyes at such dramatics but makes no comment on them, which Izuna takes to mean that his sibling agrees in his own way. He wishes he could say he is only being silly and dramatic but deep down he truly believes that Tobirama being possessed by a vengeful spirit would make more sense than for the man to follow him around as though suspicious of his intentions. Still ridiculous, of course, but somehow more plausible.

He hadn’t been stupid enough to believe Hashirama's vague words about recovery during the first few meetings of peace between their people. The longer time went on without the Senju second heir appearing the less anyone had been willing to believe such nonsense but it was the look in Hashirama's eyes which stilled their tongues as the months stretched out in to a full year. Not anger or exasperation, no nervousness that they might be taking offense. What earned their silence both then and now had been the worry in his eyes, the fear for another which he tried so desperately not to let them see, the flash of uncertain terror that shadowed his eyes with every mention of his brother. Izuna has seen that look in the eyes of those who worry for their loved ones even when there is no wound to worry over.

“And he’s not…aggressive?” Madara asks.

“No!” Izuna throws his hands in the air and slumps further in his seat. “At least if he was angry or something I would understand that but this silence and following me around, it’s just weird! I don’t know how I’m supposed to react to it.”

“You could, oh I don’t know, ask him to stop?”

With the bitchiest look he can summon Izuna nods exaggeratedly. “Oh of course, why didn’t I think of that? Ah right. Because I did. And all that accomplished was a big fat load of nothing.”

“There’s no need to be so sarcastic,” his brother grumbles. When Madara turns away to pout Izuna rubs at the space between his brows.

“Do you have _any_ idea what his problem is? Serious question, any idea at all? Has your best friend for life not said anything or dropped any hints? I’m at my wits end here.” What small hope he has is dashed by the shaking of the other man’s head.

Madara shrugs as he says, “Not a clue. It’s weird but Hashirama doesn’t actually talk about his brother very much.”

“You mean they don’t like each other?”

“No, not like that. But every time Tobirama comes up in conversation, if it’s not work related Hashirama will get this really weird look on his face and change the subject. Usually in such a way that I don’t think about it till later. You know how he is, all loud and distracting.”

“He’s certainly not as dumb as he pretends to be,” Izuna agrees.

The two of them sit in silence for a minute or two, thinking of the all the unexpected similarities between the Senju siblings and all the ways they’re still so different. For all that they are both unexpectedly intelligent it seems to be only in their own respective fields. Where Tobirama’s intelligence is nearly unparalleled when it comes to science and political machinations he seems to be quite useless when it comes to human interactions and yet that is where Hashirama shines – earnest Hashirama who can only stare with a blank smile whenever his beloved sibling goes off on some in-depth explanation of a new tax code proposal.

Shaking his head to clear it, Izuna takes a deep breath and decides that sitting around moaning about his own confusion isn’t getting much done. There are still other things he needs to do that day and he can’t do anything of them while staring across the desk at Madara.

Leaving the man to his work is as easy as reminding him that he has a lot of it and suddenly Izuna finds there is no more attention on him, the perfect time to slip out the door and wander slowly back to his own office. It is only his perfectionist nature which leads him to hearing what he does then. Were he anyone else he might shrug it off when he notices the wrappings around his left ankle coming loose, something that can certainly wait until he sits down to be fixed, but he stops instead and leans against the wall just before a turn in the corridor to bend down and fiddle with his ankle. Not until he is already busy unwrapping and retucking does he realize he is in the perfect spot to overhear two people just around the corner.

“Tetsuo thinks maybe they’re having an affair of some kind,” the first voice says, full of scorn for their own words.

“Ridiculous. That icicle and Izuna-sama? Not a chance. They were rivals for years, they’re not going to fall in to bed only a few months after peace was made!” The second voice sounds vaguely familiar, probably a member of his own clan though he can’t quite identify them.

“I never said I believed it!” the first objects. “But it’s weird, right? The way Tobirama-sama just…hovers around him. If they weren’t enemies for years I would say he’s acting like a nervous parent or something with how he watches Izuna-sama’s every move and how he glares at anyone who says something bad about the man.”

To Izuna’s annoyance his possible clan member feels the need to waste time defending his honor with a sharp, “Who’s saying bad things about him?”

“Oh for kami’s sake, that’s not the point.”

“Hmph.”

“But you get what I’m saying, yeah? I know Tetsuo think they’re rolling around together but my theory is a blood oath or something. Maybe Hashirama-sama set him this duty as penance. I heard one of them almost died in the final battle between your clans and everyone knows Tobirama-sama is too fast to go down easy.”

Much as it hurts Izuna’s pride a little to have someone believe him the weaker in any battle, he forces himself to remain still and continue listening. It takes a moment for his prideful clansman to get past the spluttering and rage over the same issue but eventually it fades in to senseless grumbling and a solid declaration that Tobirama was in fact been the one injured during their final clash. Clearly this person hadn’t been present or else they might not so casually reference that moment.

Very few had known how to process the sight of an elder version of his rival appearing only to turn and slaughter his own younger self.

As the two strangers continue to speculate Izuna swallows thickly and turns away to take another route back to his office, finding suddenly that listening in on a conversation he isn’t supposed to hear has lost its appeal. More than ever his curiosity has been peaked, however. He needs to figure this situation out.

Why does Tobirama follow him?

That will have to be dealt with on his own time, however. Later he will pass on what he heard to his brother and they can speculate to their hearts’ content over dinner. For now he has work to do. Work that, so long as he remains shut away within his own office, he can trust that he will be able to do in the silence of solitary.

Only when the work is done will he turn his mind to the problems that he has already let go too far. Surely one more day of ignoring it all cannot hurt anything. He’ll deal with it eventually, of course, but until then Izuna supposes he can hope that ignoring his problems might, by some miracle, simply make them go away.


	2. Chapter 2

“But why do I need to be in charge of it?” In spite of the usual efforts to sound more mature than his actual age, at the moment Hikaku treads dangerously close to a childish whine. Izuna is far from impressed.

“We need someone there to make sure people actually stay on task,” he says. “And we all know there’s no one better at killing a buzz than you. It’s a work site, people are gonna get rowdy, idiots are gonna want to show off. You’re basically acting as supervisor to make sure that no one gets out of hand or uses any chakra outside of strict working necessity.”

Scratching at the back of his head, Hikaku steps aside to let a man pass between them and then falls in to step beside Izuna again. His face takes on a dour expression for several minutes as they walk. By the time he orders his thoughts for whatever he wants to say they’ve already passed by several shops and turned down another street.

“I’m not exactly…the strongest guy around,” he says at last. The words sound as though they pain him to admit. Pride is a terrible affliction to them all.

“That’s fine. No one’s asking you to actually fight people. If they step out of line you tell them where to shove it. And if they try to start something you don’t think you can win then dodge like hell and report them. You know I’m always willing to crack a head for you if you need it.” Izuna grins as he claps his cousin on the back, shamelessly enjoying the bleak grimace he gets in return.

When the other falls in to a sulk Izuna lets him, too cheerful to be put off his own good mood. Plans to build the wall are progressing a lot faster than anyone expected after the council of elders had somehow all managed to agree on a single proposal in the first meeting. As a celebration of the workers going out to survey the initial measurements Izuna had invited Madara out for lunch. Unfortunately his brother is an absolute stick in the mud and had opted to stay home with some paperwork he apparently needed to get done so when Izuna passed Hikaku on his way in to the shopping district he cheerfully invited his cousin instead.

And even more cheerfully dropped the news that he is nominating Hikaku as one of the foremen for this upcoming worksite. Their lunch out has been a petty man’s delight as he enjoyed both the food and the look of exhausted irritation staring back at him.

“Come on, if we cut through here I think it leads out near the tailor’s and I need to put in an order for a new cloak.” With how the streets twist here and there Izuna is actually fairly proud of himself for remembering that. He pulls at his cousin’s shoulder until Hikaku follows along behind him with a tortured sigh.

“I thought we were going home now?”

“Oh stop whining or I’ll sit on you until you admit that you’re secretly an old man in an adolescent body.”

Even without looking he can practically hear the other pouting. “I’m nineteen!”

Izuna intends to shoot back with some quip about making his point for him. He’s interrupted before he can by the sudden appearance of two stocky figures in front of them, blocking the path in an unmistakably deliberate manner. One arm swings out instinctively to stop Hikaku and encourage the younger man behind him. His cousin might not be exactly weak but he is also enough of a level-headed realistic to step behind the stronger fighter without complaint.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Izuna asks in a calm voice.

“Already done enough, haven’t you?” one of the men drawls. His accent is distinctly northern where the villages have all intermarried enough that none of the people living there can be said to carry even as few as three bloodlines.

“If I’ve already helped then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind stepping aside for us to pass.” Humor is, perhaps, not the best way to respond in this situation but unfortunately his mouth always works a little faster than his brain. Sometimes the words just sort of fall out of their own.

“Think you’re funny?”

Clearly these strangers do not appreciate his humor.

“Yeah I sort of think I am.” Izuna grins even as he curses himself for a trouble-seeking fool.

“Right.” One of the men turns his head to spit before cracking his knuckles. “I’ve been waiting years to get you alone. Then some people came ‘round our little hamlet talking about peace and a village where we can all be happy and sunshine together and I thought to myself ‘well now, isn’t that just an opportunity?’ And here you are.”

“Here I am.”

“My sister never took another step after you left her for dead. Now she spends every day with this look on her face like she wishes you would have just finished the job.”

A wash of sad understanding turns over in Izuna’s belly. Not guilt because he’s sure he had a reason for whatever he did, he’s never been the type for unnecessary slaughter, but the aftermath of their duties as shinobi is never pleasant to think about. One of the first lessons he’d ever been taught was how to put it all out of his mind lest it drive him to madness thinking about the things he’s done. It doesn’t take a genius to understand the sort of revenge this man is after; obviously he’s never been able to put what happened to his sister out of mind.

For perhaps a sliver of an instant Izuna considers trying to talk his way out of this but even as the idea enters his mind he cast it aside. The anger staring back at him is not the sort of anger that can be talked aside. Unfortunate, that. There goes his good mood.

“Hikaku,” he murmurs quietly, “I want you to stay out of this.”

“But-!”

“Just watch the street and make sure no one else gets involved, alright?” Keeping both eyes on the man already reaching for a poorly sharpened kunai, he waits until his cousin assents with a low grunt. Then he nods and put his trust in the other to keep out of the way.

Eyes narrowed, body language more aggressive by the moment, the stranger doing all the talking gives a harsh snort. “You must be proud of the pain you’ve caused. I’ve always enjoyed taking the pride out of men who don’t deserve it. Hurting you the way you hurt her is going to be fun, I’ll make sure to mark this day on my calendar and celebrate it every damn year.”

Izuna is already imagining the lecture Madara will give him later on setting an example for others, how they are supposed to be the pinnacles of peaceful behavior towards their new allies. He spares a moment to scowl mentally for the one who has seen most of his violence over the years. What use is having a stalker if Tobirama mysteriously disappears the only time it might be useful to have him around?

Of course, the moment he finishes that thought the two men move towards him and then every body present freezes as another appears between them. Exasperation and relief flood Izuna’s veins in equal measures. Tobirama says nothing in either greeting or explanation, merely stands like a statue with his back to the one he’s spent most of his life trying to kill. Leaning to the side puts Izuna at just the right angle to see his rival’s face and wonders at the look of sheer ice in those deep red eyes, narrowed in to a cold glare that would have frozen the blood of bigger men than the ones he has turned it on now. Nice as it is of him to give these idiots pause in whatever stupidity they had been about to commit it’s still baffling for Izuna to find himself standing behind a wall of pale flesh like some damsel that needs rescuing.

And all in utter silence.

Now faced with twice the skill as they had been a moment before, the would-be attackers seem to rethink their options, eyes darting between Tobirama’s immovable stance and Izuna’s raised eyebrows. The one who has so far done all the talking keeps his eyes forward when he cranes his neck to whisper behind himself. Wariness has already filled the second man, frustration clear on his face even as he shakes his head with obvious regret.

“Let us have five minutes with him,” the first one says finally, attempting to bargain with Tobirama. “Rumor says you follow him around like a shadow; obviously you don’t trust him. You wouldn’t shed any tears if something happened, yeah? No one has to know you were even here.”

They wait but Tobirama makes no move to reply, only continues staring the pair of them down. It’s difficult to decide whether his ability to remain so completely still is more impressive or eerie but Izuna supposes it doesn’t matter much when it is clearly serving its purpose. All confidence drains away to leave both of the strange men looking increasingly nervous as the minutes ticked by. Eventually the one in front grunts and scuffs one foot against the dusty ground.

“Whatever. Pair of goody-two-shoes softies now that you’ve got a pretty little treaty to hide behind and all. Just you wait, Uchiha. There won’t always be a Senju bodyguard around to protect you.” With a sharp gesture he motions for his companion to follow and backs away slowly until he can lose himself in the crowds just beyond the alley.

“Hn, won’t I?” Izuna murmurs unhappily under his breath.

Although he’s sure the words do not carry across the space between them, Tobirama turns and meets his eyes with the anger in his face draining away to leave him blank once more. For some reason the sight of him is unutterably irritating.

“Thanks _oh so much_ for the help but you know I could have taken those two with both eyes closed, right? I don’t you to rescue me.” Snorting quietly as he hears his cousin splutter behind him, Izuna shakes his head. “Seriously, is this what you were following me around for? I don’t know if you were hoping for a life debt or something but no way am I declaring some bullshit like that when I could have taken care of this on my own.”

“ _Izuna_!” Hikaku whines and pulls at his sleeve but he shakes the man off without looking.

“Go on then. Was that what you wanted? For the love of chakra just say something!”

Tobirama tilts his head slowly to one side. “Your brother was looking for you,” is all he says, leaving them to wonder if he intends that as a convenient excuse for his presence or this is a paltry attempt at moving the focus away from himself. It’s a lie either way. His brother knows exactly where he is.

With no further words Tobirama turns and walks away in a plain declaration that he considers this nonexistent conversation over. Not even when Izuna hollers after him loud enough to attract attention from both ends of the alley does he look back, leaping up on to the rooftops where, even more annoyingly, his chakra doesn’t go farther than a couple of roads away. Considering how close he tends to stay lately it’s sort of a miracle he goes even that far.

“Do you think anyone would notice if I murdered him in his sleep?” Izuna grumbles.

“Yes,” Hikaku answers in a flat voice. “Many people. Not the least of whom would be his own sibling.”

“Just a little bit?”

“No.”

It proves difficult but he manages to resist the urge to cross his arms. “Ugh, fine. Come on. I can stop by the tailor’s another day, let’s just head back home. Madara’s gonna love this.”

One glance is all it takes to see that Hikaku understands his sarcasm. At least the familiarity of rolling eyes lifts his spirits a bit. He is still frowning as they turn for home, however, working though everything that’s just happened in the span of about five minutes. For all that he hadn’t believed in peace himself for many years, apparently he’s allowed himself to grow complacent in just a few short months of it. Getting jumped is surprising enough already considering how few people would dare to challenge his reputation but having someone go to all the trouble of joining their settlement just to challenge him specifically is a dedication to hatred beyond even his own ability to carry grudges. Then to have Tobirama of all people step in like some volunteer policeman? He feels almost tempted to check himself for signs of whiplash.

Hikaku stays with him until they are well within the boundaries of the Uchiha compound, probably worrying that he might wander off and get up to no good. Which, he can admit, sounds fairly relaxing at the moment. Nothing helps him let off a bit off steam more than pulling a good prank or two on his fellow clan members. Unfortunately he’s had to rein himself in a lot more often to make a good image for anyone watching the Uchiha a little too closely, putting their best foot forward until the gathered clans are all on more solid footing with each other. It’s a shame, really. Behaving is _boring_.

Left alone only a few streets away from his home, Izuna spends the last few minutes’ walk trying to figure out how to describe what has just transpired without making it sound like some weird over exaggeration. He wanders up their walkway with an absent thought that it looks like the grass seeds they planted are finally sprouting, green shoots rising from bare dirt to stand proud with no help from the mokuton they still deny needing, and scowls to know that it is now perhaps a little late in the season. They will die before they have a chance to live. Perhaps to take advantage of the help Hashirama offers will be necessary after all next year. Madara looks up as Izuna enters their home and matches his frown as though by instinct.

“What’s your problem?” he demands.

“Grass is finally growing,” Izuna mumbles as he kicks off his shoes. “And I got jumped in an alley. Sort of.”

Madara's paperwork drifts slowly down to his lap, eyes narrowing behind the reading glasses he so shamefully hides away from most people, fingers already tapping random patterns against his thigh with rapid thought.

“You look remarkably unruffled for someone who just got jumped.”

“Didn’t exactly turn in to a fight. Almost, there were two of them and one was saying something about me hurting his sister, but we got interrupted.”

“By?” his brother prompts him when he doesn’t go on.

Shuffling in to the room, Izuna flops down in the closest armchair and rolls his eyes. “Who do you think? My biggest fan showed up and just stood there like a ghostly statue, stared the two idiots down until I guess they decided they didn’t want to fight me and him at the same time.”

He feels almost flattered to see Madara set his paperwork entirely aside. As the years go by his brother has grown to be more and more of a workaholic, always needing to be productive and taking less time to simply relax, almost as though he were trying to fill some kind of hole in himself. Izuna wonders sometimes if the man is lonely but he never asks. Romance is generally one of the topics they try not to talk about beyond warning each other to go sleep somewhere else for a night on rare occasions.

“Just like that?” Madara asks eventually. “He showed up out of nowhere to just…stand there?”

“Pretty much. It was weird. When I tried to tell him I had the situation handled all he said was that you were looking for me and then he disappeared like he does except he didn’t go far. Do you think he even realizes that I’m a trained fucking shinobi and I can track chakra like everyone else if I put some effort in to it?”

Several minutes pass without answer but he knows his sibling well enough to know that Madara is only mulling the situation over in his head. Much to the contrary of what most people think, he does have the ability to think before he speaks; it’s just that he loses that ability when his emotions are high and that tends to happen a little too easily. Especially around the two Senju brothers. Both of their one-time enemies have their own way of evoking emotion fairly easily from those around them.

“I can’t say I know what’s in his mind but from what you’ve told me I don’t think he cares whether you know he’s there or not.” Madara hums as though considering his own statement.

“That’s just weird,” Izuna grumbles. “This whole thing is weird. People are actually starting to talk about it, do you realize that? And some of the rumors going around are wild! I’m pretty sure the man isn’t following me around because he’s secretly in love with me.”

“You never know,” Madara points out with the careful thought on his face morphing in to sly teasing.

“Oh don’t even suggest it,” Izuna shoots back, nose wrinkling with distaste.

It isn’t that Tobirama is particularly unattractive. Quite the opposite, actually; he’s been unfairly attractive since the rest of them were all gangly teenagers hating him a little more for having never suffered the indignation of a pimple at the end of his nose. Rather it’s the idea of trying to make a relationship work with someone he would constantly be comparing himself to that balks him. Being competitive is simply in his nature and Izuna is self-aware enough to admit that being so close in power to his partner would leave him feeling childishly not good enough.

His eyes close as he realizes that now he is worrying about this ridiculous possibility he hadn’t even given credence to until he was teased about it. Madara, the bastard, snickers at him from across the room.

“Maybe I can shake him if I volunteer to take a few missions,” Izuna muses aloud. “He’s really not harming me in any way but it’d be nice to not feel eyes following me around all the time. That plays havoc with all the years I spent training myself to be hyper aware of anyone watching me. I keep thinking he’s about to attack.”

“Afraid you’ll lose?” His brother pretends to nod in sage agreement, to which he lifts his middle finger.

“Don’t project your own insecurities on to me, old man.”

The wave of profanity that crashes over him in response flows in one ear and out the other as Izuna tunes it all out with the ease of practice. He is already trying to remember the mission list that got posted this morning and whether there had been anything on it which might keep him away for a few days just to relax, to breathe without having to wonder if red eyes might be watching his every movement.

Getting out of the village will be good for him anyway. It will be interesting to see how the climates have changed in the area with the forming of Konoha and all the other lands following their example. When the only thing he needed to call himself was an Uchiha there had been certain cities and towns that welcomed him with the relief of knowing he would protect them if need be while others had watched him pass through their lands from behind closed blinds, reporting every movement to the other clans they were allied with. Now that he carries with him the weight of Konohagakure on his shoulders he wonders how those same eyes will watch him. Friendly, the ally of his allies? Or will suspicion and prejudice linger as they all pretend that it doesn’t here in the village itself?

It feels strange to hope that lingering prejudice is the only reason Tobirama keeps following him around but Izuna finds his thoughts wandering back to the rumors of a strange romantic obsession and shudders, pushing the idea away as quickly as it returns to him. Some time away will hopefully clear his mind and allow him to come back to this odd situation with fresh eyes. Maybe then he will be able to see past the things he is afraid of finding to spot the real reason.

Like any good plan, however, it is subject to unexpected changes. Namely the innocent smile on Hashirama's face the next morning as he stands in the man’s office and stares with abject horror.

“You want me to what?”

“Accompany Tobirama on his mission! It’s a simple delivery but our intelligence says that Iwa shinobi have been spotted in the area and they’ve been doing everything they can to sabotage our efforts in reaching out to new allies.” His eyes turn soft in the way that says he is slipping away in to dreamy thoughts. “Normally I would send Touka with him, they’ve always worked well together, but then something Maddy said made me realize that it would be really good to make a show of unity, you know?”

“Unity.” Izuna parrots the word faintly, hardly able to believe his ears. He is going to kill his brother for this.

With an oblivious nod Hashirama goes on. “Yes! The biggest concern we see from the clans we’re reaching out to is their doubt that this peace is real. What better way to convince them of our sincerity than to see you and Tobi working together?”

“That’s very sound logic,” he has to admit. “Terrible, awful, and disgustingly sound logic.”

“Isn’t it? When I told Tobi my idea all he did was stare at me without saying anything. I would have thought he’d be proud of me for coming up with such a clever idea.”

Doing his best to ignore the most powerful man in the nation pouting at him like a child asking for sympathy, Izuna draws in a deep breath and lets it back out slowly. Of course his old rival had only stared. The man is probably leaping for maniacal joy on the inside to be handed such a perfect excuse to continue stalking him from even closer than usual. So much for getting some time away.

“Looks like I don’t have much of a choice but to accept,” Izuna mumbles more to himself than to Hashirama. After making a point to seek out a mission for himself it will only make him look like a dissenter if he refuses to work this one simply because of who he’s been asked to work with.

“Excellent! Right, I have a copy of the mission details here if you’d like to take the scroll and look it over. You’ll be leaving in two days so don’t worry about rushing, there’s plenty of time to get things together or find someone to cover your work. I know Tobi hates to come home and find his paperwork has piled up.”

“Does he now?”

The other man beams at his rhetorical question, clearly mistaking it for interest, and continues to blather on long past the point when Izuna stops listening. Now that he’s been enjoying the benefits of it for months he will be the last person to declare this peace a mistake but Izuna will freely and eagerly state for anyone who asks that he regrets the effects it seems to be having on Tobirama. Or more accurately he regrets that it has given the man chances such as the one he finds himself falling in to now.

Quietly planning revenge on his own brother for having any part in saddling him with this doom, Izuna allows Hashirama's voice to wash over him like a constant stream as he unrolls the scroll to peruse its contents. The mission itself doesn’t seem too complicated, typical first contact stuff, a good show of cooperation and goodwill before they saunter on home again. It’s ironically just the sort of thing he’s been hoping for. Of course, he’s been hoping to go alone or perhaps to drag Hikaku along with him. Now he is to be saddled with an extra shadow to follow along behind.

A little piece of home to come with him, he thinks wryly.

“Much as I appreciate your stellar conversation”-Izuna interrupts the flow of words without guilt the moment he is finished reading-“I do believe I should go set my paperwork in order now rather than leaving it until the last minute. Whoever takes up my duties while I’m gone won’t appreciate a messy filing system.”

“Yeah, Tobi’s always on my back to be less messy. I won’t keep you then!”

Izuna nods and turns away. He makes it all the way to the door and twists the handle when his attention is called back to see Hashirama’s face take on a hesitant, almost pensive expression.

“Thank you for accepting this mission. I know the two of you aren’t close the way Maddy and I are but I think…this will be good for him.” He says nothing more than that, no explanation for such cryptic words, and once again Izuna finds himself wondering whether this man knows what sort of behavior his sibling gets up to at every opportunity.

Rather than ask he simply nods and turns back to the door again. Tobirama tends to stay farther away whenever he keeps within the boundaries of the Uchiha compound. If he is to be denied the space he’s been trying to create for himself then Izuna very much intends to spend as much time as possible on his own before several days of having to walk side by side with his own unexplained stalker. Maybe – and it’s a big maybe – he might be able to force some sort of clue out of the man while they’re alone in the wilderness for days on end.

A man can dream, even if he dreams of nothing more than an answer to his questions.


	3. Chapter 3

As a child Izuna can remember his mother teaching him a method of meditating on his own breathing pattern in an attempt to rein in his temper. It had worked to some extent then. At the moment he finds himself having much more limited success. It wouldn’t be so bad if his unwanted mission partner would only travel beside him but no matter what speed they move at somehow Tobirama always ends up just a step or two behind and it’s driving him absolutely wild.

“Have you tried some sort of rewards system?”

“Different ones, yes.”

Even worse still is that they have managed to keep up a semblance of amicable conversation for nearly the entire journey as if there is nothing more between them but the fact that their brothers are friends. Tobirama’s voice carries no hint of aggression, no undue curiosity, and there are certainly no hints of any romantic endeavors. At some point they find themselves on the topic of a child in the Uchiha clan who doesn’t pay even half the attention he should to his lessons and Izuna is vaguely surprised that his companion’s interest seems to be more for the boy than for him.

“Behavioral based or progression based?”

“What’s the difference?”

“If the child feels he is unable to obtain whatever goals have been set for him then he may not feel motivated even by the promise of a reward.”

Listening to him speak in such a bland tone leaves Izuna confused. He isn’t sure whether the man is trying to pretend his weird stalking isn’t happening or if he is merely striving for a bit of normalcy while they are forced to travel together but either way the efforts are pointless. It‘s impossible to pretend that everything is normal while Tobirama refuses to actually walk beside him.

“Huh, I never thought of it like that,” he murmurs, willing to keep the conversation up if only so he isn’t traveling in silence with an old enemy standing just behind his unprotected back. “We’ve tried to do it like that and we’ve tried to bribe him with sweets for even just showing up every day – I swear every tooth in his head is a sweet one. Nothing works.”

While his companion hums thoughtfully Izuna tries to remember if there are any other methods they have used to try and convince little Kagami to take his training more seriously. The little tyke has so much potential. Such a shame that he insists on wasting it all. If he had some other interest or passion that he were trying to pursue instead Izuna might understand, not all of their clan members are fighters after all, but at times it feels as though Kagami seems determined to simply never grow up.

A pause in the steps behind him catches his attention and Izuna turns to see that Tobirama has gone stiff, his head turned away, eyes narrowed where they stare in to the middle distance off east. Instinctively Izuna turns to look that way as well only to realize that Tobirama probably isn’t actually looking with his eyes.

“Three inbound at high speeds. Feels like Kaminari no Kuni shinobi.”

“Gods, how powerful _is_ your sensing?” Izuna grumbles, loosening his sword in its sheath.

“More than I ever allowed the Uchiha to discover.” Tobirama’s gaze flicks over towards him and there is something dark hidden there before he looks away. “An oversight, perhaps, that I have not seen fit to share my true abilities with our new allies.”

“Right. Let’s take care of this and then we’re having a nice long conversation on exactly what you’re capable of.”

Before there is time for any sort of reply their new company arrives, flitting in to the treetops above them and pausing to assess the situation. Izuna takes a good grip on the handle of his favorite sword, tightening his fingers one by one, counting breaths just as his mother taught him.

 _In, out, one_. Three opponents, one male and two female.

 _In, out, two_. A sword glimmers in the hand of one female, something heavy and club like in the hands of the male, close combat fighters.

 _In, out, three_. Large chakra stores burn almost tangibly in the air around the third, clearly a distance fighter, he will need to keep an eye out for whatever jutsu she has up her sleeve.

He never gets to four breaths. From behind him Tobirama explodes in to motion, charging the woman nearly bursting at the seams with her own chakra. A low hiss cuts the air just before the man leaps in to defend his companion. Izuna rolls his shoulders and acknowledges that he has been left to face the woman bearing a sword to match his own, the perfect opponent. Out of all the spars he has enjoyed with many and varied people since moving to Konoha very few of them have been able to match his skill with a blade enough to offer a proper challenge. In a strange way he almost misses his battles with the man he is currently fighting alongside if only because he worries that without Tobirama to face he might lose his edge.

Sparks leap between their weapons and Izuna realizes that he has moved out of habit without even consciously deciding to, sword leaping to hand and meeting the one aiming for his neck. For a single heartbeat they struggle, brute strength against brute strength, then the woman twists and dodges back once she realizes that his bulk outweighs her own. Rather than allow her the time to think up another angle of attack Izuna hefts his sword and watches her respond with a snarl of frustration. Good. That means she is off balance and an opponent who has no time to think is an opponent he can easily beat.

Only sharp reflexes stop his blade from cutting through the wrong flesh, pulling up a mere instant before he would have pierced Tobirama through the side as his mission partner suddenly appears between them to deflect his opponent’s blade. Then he is skipping away again with a snarl of his own. Izuna floods his eyes with chakra just to take in the expression of something almost like desperation on the man’s face. His reputation being what it is, revealing his greatest battle advantage has the added benefit of causing his opponent to hesitate. Not many people who know what it can do are stupid enough to attack an active Sharingan straight on and Izuna is oddly glad to see that his opponent is not stupid. Easy kills are no fun.

As Tobirama is pressed back by his own two assailants Izuna rushes in to keep this one busy. He can’t afford to let her find her bearings; he learned the hard way when he was younger to never underestimate how many tricks your opponent might have up their sleeve. She might seem like her skills barely match his own but he has no way of knowing what tricks or seals or the like she might pull out at a moment’s notice.

Neither does he have a chance to find out, as it happens. Each time their clash looks as though it might be about to get interesting Tobirama appears between them. At first Izuna accepts that he simply needs to dodge quite a lot while trying to face a long range and a short range fighter at the same time; keeping up with two different styles means keeping on your toes. It isn’t until his Sharingan focuses in on the pair chasing his partner around the field that he realizes both of them are downright ragged looking. One bleeds from several places and the other looks just on the verge of an asthmatic attack so out of breath are they. In contrast Tobirama looks tense yet still in good condition.

So if it’s Tobirama that is leading them around by the nose rather than the one getting chased why on earth does he keep dashing in between Izuna and his own kill? There’s a whole forest here to move around in.

Annoying as it is, the trained shinobi in his soul can’t help but admire how quickly Tobirama moves from place to place, how seamlessly he manages to insert himself just in time to deflect whatever attack Izuna is about to meet and then dance away again as though he’d never been there. Whatever else he is there can be no denying that he’s a skilled fighter. The problem is trying to figure out what the hell he is up to.

It simply doesn’t make sense, Izuna thinks as he takes his opportunity to bull in close and drive the woman back with a rapid flurry of attacks. Weeks and months of stalking that Izuna has been interpreting as some lingering form of aggression. Now suddenly the man is jumping in front of him in battle. Has he been making observations leading him to the conclusion that Izuna’s skills have diminished somehow? That certainly makes more sense than the ridiculous rumors of forbidden love, although it’s also wildly more insulting. Yet even that theory includes enough gaping holes that he can’t quite believe it either.

By the time Izuna finds an opening to drive his blade through his opponent’s neck and watch her gurgle out her last curses on the forest floor he is equal parts curious and livid. Tobirama dispatches of his own two assailants only a moment later as though he has merely been playing with them as some morbid excuse to remain occupied. He waits just long enough to clean his sword and slide it back in to the scabbard across his back, then Izuna is marching across the torn clearing to take the collar of his old rival’s armor and drag them face to face, oddly unsurprised that he is allowed to do so with no resistance.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he growls. “I’m not so softened by this stupid dream of our brothers’ that I’ve forgotten how to defend myself! I had that covered!”

“Your skill was never in question,” Tobirama murmurs. He looks entirely calm, unruffled, and that only irritates Izuna further.

“It sure as hell feels questioned with you babying me like some genin out on their first run! If you think I need to polish a few things then say it to my face, damn it, quit treating me with kid gloves! I didn’t need it back home and I don’t need it here!”

Composed as he ever is, Tobirama fails to react in any satisfying sort of way. He fails to so much as blink while Izuna screams in his face but there is one thing to be gained from overreacting. From this close – perhaps the first time they have ever been so close outside of battle – it is plain to see the well of something dark and deep in those red eyes so like the Sharingan, something that brings ice crawling up Izuna’s spine though he can’t yet define what it is. It’s enough to snap his jaw shut and make him step away to watch quietly as Tobirama turns, murmuring again that they should press on to their destination.

An uncomfortable mixture of anger and confusion with shades of worry twists itself into knots inside Izuna’s belly, keeping his mouth shut for the rest of their mission, speaking only when it is absolutely necessary. On the journey home he can feel the back of his neck itching with Tobirama’s eyes almost every step of the way but he holds his tongue for fear of what else he might see in that unwavering gaze.

When they make it back to the village the first thing they do is make their report to Hashirama, of course. Madara joins them and together they remain sequestered for over an hour discussing the results of their goodwill efforts. Despite his attempts to appear nonchalant Izuna is fairly sure the clan they were visiting with had noticed some tensions between himself and Tobirama but in a strange way it had actually worked out in their favor as their hosts seemed to be impressed with how well they function together anyway. Talking about that without making a big deal of why exactly there had been some friction in their unity is difficult. Izuna is more than glad when finally they have said all there is to say for now and he is able to drag his brother off towards home.

Madara puts up a good act of wanting to stay and finish his work. He fools no one. Not even his workaholic tendencies are enough to keep him from spending a bit of quality time with his favorite sibling – although Izuna does notice the man tucking a few scrolls in to his sleeve before they depart. It gets him out the door, however, so no comments are made until finally they are making their way through the gate leading in to the Uchiha district.

“I can’t figure out his angle,” he blurts, too eager for another’s opinion to bother with context.

“Who, Hashirama?”

“No! Don’t be an idiot, that tree is as transparent as glass with his intentions. I mean his gods damned brother!”

Humming contemplatively, Madara pulls a bit of hair forward to fiddle with. “Wouldn’t having him forced to travel with you sort of negate the stalking? I know you didn’t want him along but I thought it would be nice for you to at least drag him out of the shadows.”

Rather tempted to pull at his own hair, Izuna takes several breaths and counts them before he is able to form a reply through the flash of temper.

Thankfully his brother has the good grace not to interrupt as he recounts everything that’s happened while he was away. His description of the way Tobirama seemed to constantly find his way between Izuna and his opponent during their battle brings a crease to Madara's brow that only deepens as the story goes on. Slowly making their way up one of the side streets, a shortcut towards their home, he tosses the chunk of hair he is playing with back over his shoulder only to grab another and start again.

“Strange,” he rumbles. “Very strange. I honestly have no idea what the hell this is all about.”

“I know that it’s ridiculous but I just need to hear someone else say this out loud: please tell me it’s not plausible that he’s actually fallen in love with me somehow.”

“Plausible, technically yes. Probable, a very strong no.”

“Oh thank the gods.” Izuna slumps with relief to finally have another confirm his thoughts.

After rolling his eyes Madara slips right back in to thoughtfulness. “There’s something about this that just doesn’t quite sit with me the right way. I know it would make the most sense to say that he still doesn’t trust you, that he’s been following you to keep a close watch or whatever, but for some reason I just can’t make myself believe that. There’s no other evidence of that in any other behavior.”

“Yes, thanks, I didn’t quite notice that for myself.”

“If that’s how you’re going to behave then I don’t see why you started talking about it! Go jabber at someone else if you’re just going to be all snooty about whatever I have to say!” With a sniff Madara turns up his nose and quickens his steps.

While Izuna isn’t entirely sure how he ends up being left alone outside he isn’t all that surprised either. The two of them share like tempers after all. Madara is as given to hissy fits as he himself can freely admit to being. He follows behind at a slower pace and lets himself in to the home they share, nodding at the shoes kicked off haphazardly at just the right spot where they might trip him up if he weren’t already expecting to see them there.

Madara is angrily plugging in their fancy new electric kettle when he enters the kitchen and slumps down in to the closest chair, blowing out his fringe with exasperation.

“Done being a baby?” he asks bluntly. Madara crinkles his nose.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re still thinking about it. I can practically see the gears turning in your head.”

His brother pauses in the act of pulling down two cups with the continuing thoughts he doesn’t bother to deny spilling out over his face. “Obviously I am. I keep trying to think of some other reason he might be doing this but nothing comes to mind. If it’s not that he doesn’t trust you and it’s not that he has some sort of romantic whatever–”

“Kami please no,” Izuna interrupts with a shudder.

“–then he clearly has some other special interest in you but I am honestly stumped. If it were almost anyone else I might go so far as jealousy except the two of you have always been so closely matched that I can’t see either being jealous of the other.” Madara jolts himself in to movement again, reaching for the tea leaves, but continues speaking even as he measures them out. “I would have considered that he was trying to learn something specific about you too but for the fact that he hasn’t been shy about asking for any other information he’s wanted on our clan.”

“Which is a lot of information, actually.”

“Hm. I guess. No more than we’ve asked from the others, though, and nothing that he’s asked for has been any more suspicious or invasive than the things we’ve asked about the Senju in turn.”

Izuna rattles his nails against the hardwood table. “Do you think that could be it? Maybe there’s something he wants to find out but it’s inappropriate or he knows we won’t want to share whatever information he’s after.”

He waits with as much patience as he can muster while the other tosses that idea around but even as he speaks the words Izuna himself realizes that probably isn’t it either. Tobirama might be a sneaky bastard on the battlefield and more than capable of subterfuge when it’s necessary during a mission but in daily life he has shown himself to prefer as direct a route as possible to whatever goal he has in his sights. Finally Madara pushes both teacups towards the kettle and leaves it to boil as he comes over to sit at the table.

“No,” his brother says. “That just doesn’t sound right either. And the worst part is that I can’t say _why_ it doesn’t sound right. It feels like there’s something nagging at the back of my brain, something important that I’ve forgotten. Like a missing piece of the puzzle.”

“Would your friend know anything do you think?”

Madara blinks. “Hashirama? He might. It would be worth asking if he’s got any idea what crawled up his brother’s ass.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be going over to their house for dinner tomorrow night?” Izuna rattles his fingers again but this time it is less with frustration and more to express the satisfaction of the stars aligning just for him. He is further pleased to see his sibling lean back with widening eyes.

“I am going to dinner, yes. He asked me over because both Tobirama and Mito are supposed to be busy and he wanted company. We’ll be all alone.”

“You couldn’t wish for a better opportunity to ask a few questions,” Izuna purrs with satisfaction.

When the kettle begins to whistle they turn the conversation towards other things. Spending time together after being apart – even if for so short a time – is only one of the ways they maintain such a tight bond between them. Even here in another home the shadows of the siblings they have lost echo around every corner, chased away only by the warmth of knowing that Madara will always stand beside him against whatever the world might choose to throw at them.

After a while, however, he finds other thoughts wriggling in, thoughts that Izuna knows he is above and yet he can’t seem to push them away without addressing them. Tracing the rim of his nearly empty cup gives him something else to look at as he fills the lull that has fallen naturally in their conversation.

“Can I ask you something?” He waits for the curious grunt before going on. “Why don’t you seem more worried about this whole Tobirama situation?”

“What do you mean?”

“If there was someone following you around all the time I think I’d be a lot more freaked out about it than you seem to be. Not that I’m angry or making any accusations! It’s just…odd. You’re usually so overprotective it’s hard for me to even flirt with anyone.”

“Hn.” Madara bunches his brows together as though mildly offended by the insinuation that he might not care. “I guess I just don’t feel any ill intentions from him. Something in my gut tells me that he hasn’t got anything bad up his sleeve. The way he interacts with you – hell, the way he interacts with all the rest of our clan – I just can’t bring myself to believe that he’s after anything terrible. I guess I was just unconsciously acknowledging that I don’t believe you’re in any sort of danger.”

Somehow that only increases the dread pooling in Izuna’s gut.

“If he doesn’t have any bad intentions then the kami only know what else he could have in that twisted brain of his. Ancestors watch over me.”

While his brother snorts and gently teases him for being so dramatic Izuna lets the words drift by him without actually listening. The entire reason he’s been wanting to go out on a mission is to get away from this situation with his old rival and just clear his mind a bit. Now that he’s been denied that opportunity and come home only more confused in the aftermath he realizes more than ever that he needs a night to just relax, to let everything else fade away until his mind is empty of all worries. And what better way to achieve that then a night on the town with someone he can trust to be entirely disinterested in whatever drama he’s gotten himself embroiled in this time?

“You gonna be okay on your own tonight?” he cuts in through whatever the other is saying. “I think I’ll go see if I can drag Hikaku down to one of the taverns for a few hours.”

“Don’t you have work to catch up on tomorrow?” Madara asks.

“I’m not going to get drunk or anything, don’t worry, I’m not that stupid. Just thought it would be nice to unwind for a while.”

Even as he nods understandingly Madara puts one hand to his chest and exclaims in dramatic fashion, “Because you’re just _so_ stressed with all the work you do, of course. Helping to run a village, keeping both eyes on a walking tree, achieving your lifelong dreams. Oh no wait, that’s me.”

“Fuck off,” Izuna calls cheerfully over his shoulder as he makes his way out of the room, deliberately leaving the teacup behind for the other to clean up after him. Pettiness is just another family trait.

With any luck Hikaku will be as willing to indulge him as his aniki is. Izuna reaches back to pull the tie from his hair and run his fingers through it. Perhaps a bath is in order first to wash the dirt of the road away, he probably still smells like the rivers they’ve been trudging through. Unpacking can wait for tomorrow. If his cousin doesn’t want to come out then he fully intends to bully his way in to the other man’s home and find something there to help him get his mind off of things. Tobirama can remain a problem for another day just once more.

Tomorrow his brother will speak with Hashirama and ask their questions. Tomorrow, he hopes, they will have answers.


	4. Chapter 4

Stumping in to his friend’s home the next day, the first thing Madara does is sweep the building with his senses, breathing a sigh of relief to find no other signatures smoldering away in some hidden corner. Hashirama has already promised that both Mito and Tobirama will be busy with other engagements tonight but Madara knows as much as the next person how quickly plans can change.

Following the voice that calls to him from down the hall brings him in to the kitchen where he finds Hashirama with his hair pulled back and a frilly green apron tied around his front. It’s an incredibly domestic sight that drives an unexpected sliver through Madara heart. Not that he yearns for this man in any way; he won’t deny that Hashirama is attractive, any blind idiot can see that, but the giant stump is his best friend and Madara has never desired anything more from him. Rather the pang in his heart is a quiet wanting for something like this of his own. Now that he’s achieved the peace he always dreamed of he realizes more and more with every passing day that there still remains one glaring emptiness in his life. He’s lonely.

That’s not what he’s come here for, though. Nor are the questions in his mind the entire reason he’s come either but they are the foremost issue pressing at him and much more important than his desire to find a life partner.

“Just in time!” Hashirama chirps. “Could you set the table please? I forgot to before I started cooking and I don’t want the sauce to burn if I step away from it.”

“Hmph. What a great host, making me work for my dinner.” Even as he grumbles Madara moves to pull bowls and cups out of the cupboard. His eyes fall on the kettle steaming away and he quickly swaps the juice cups for teacups. Green tea with dinner sounds amazing after working himself in to several headaches with paperwork all afternoon, trying to coordinate several different projects while people swan in and out of his office indiscriminately.

“I’m just a little turned around tonight. When Mito told me that she was going to dinner with her friend in the Akimichi clan I thought ‘that’s alright, I’ll have dinner with Tobi’. But then Tobi said he was doing some sort of inspection? I think? He’s staying late at the office anyway and I didn’t want to be lonely so I thought this would be the perfect time to have a nice dinner with you!” As he chatters away he continues chopping vegetables and stirring in his pan, barely even seeming to draw breath. “Then this morning Mito said that her dinner was cancelled since her friend I think picked up a cold or something and that made me worry; you and her don’t really get along that well. So here I am trying to run around and figure out something else to cook that would be fast so we could all eat then you and I could go off on our own somewhere but _then_ she got called over to have dinner with a _different_ friend and I’m just–”

Madara cuts him off before the flood of words can drown them both. “Flustered, yeah, I can see that.” His companion sends him a painfully grateful look.

“You’re always so understanding, my friend.”

“Ugh.”

Doing his best to ignore the fond smile the other man directs at him, Madara sets the dishes out and retrieves the kettle only moments after it boils, transferring the water in to a teapot to properly brew them a batch of green tea. Then he sits himself at the table with a sigh and decides that subtlety is for people worried about offending others.

“Can I ask you about your brother?”

Hashirama's smile turns to curiosity. “Tobirama?”

“No, the other brother that you’ve hidden for years. I’ve uncovered your secret.” When his friend only continues to stare at him with a blank face Madara rolls his eyes. Sarcasm is wasted on this idiot. “Yes Tobirama. What is his deal?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What is his deal? What’s his problem? Did you know that he’s been stalking Izuna around the village since we all moved in here?”

Judging by the look on Hashirama's face he hadn’t known that. Something pops in the pan behind him but the tension between his shoulders is painfully visible as he turns around, voice drifting back across the kitchen with an undertone of caution.

“Can you give me a little more detail?”

“More than you want, probably. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed this! Every time my brother’s in the tower yours is right there up his ass, staring at him from across the room, standing so close they’re practically breathing the same air. And when he’s not in the tower it’s even worse! Tobirama follows him all around the village like he thinks he’s being sneaky – except he doesn’t even bother to conceal his presence! That’s probably the biggest insult of the whole affair!”

As he listens Hashirama removes their dinner from the stove with slow movements. In a strangely quiet voice he asks, “How long did you say that this had been going on?” 

“From the day we all got here, as I understand it. I don’t remember if he was doing anything funny the few times we saw him before the migration, neither of us thought to pay any particular attention to him, but I know for sure he’s been stalking Izuna for months now.” Madara scowls. “For the most part Izu’s just confused. Irritated. He’s gotten pretty riled up a few times and said something about beating some sense in to his little shadow but an incident like that could be detrimental to clan relations right now.”

“Has Tobi seemed angry at all?” Hashirama's expression says that he already knows the answer but needs to ask the question anyway.

“No. Well, not at Izuna. He looks really pissed at whoever gets close to my brother and that’s probably the weirdest part. It’s started a few different rumors but Izuna’s convinced that it means Tobirama wants to kill him still and that he wants to do it himself.” As much as Madara can follow the sketchy logic behind that idea he still can’t make himself believe it.

Which is why he feels a very brief flash of vindication when Hashirama shakes his head to deny the half-assed theory. It’s always nice to be right, especially as an older sibling. The flash is very short-lived, however, in the face of how deeply troubled his best friend looks with every word he takes in.

“You’ve noticed some things that I haven’t it seems. I-…I should have been paying more attention. Especially with-” The words cut themselves off for the man to let out a morose sigh.

“Go on?”

“If he doesn’t seem angry then how would you say he does look?” 

“Uh?” Madara scratches the back of his head, trying to picture a face in his mind that he’s honestly never concentrated very hard on. “If I had to put a name to it? Sad. He doesn’t look violent or yearning or angry, he just looks, I don’t know, resigned I suppose.”

As though a great weight has just fallen upon his shoulders Hashirama closes his eyes and trembles. “Oh Tobi…”

“There’s something we’ve been missing about this, isn’t there?”

For a long time there is no answer. In silence Hashirama plates their dinner, his eyes far away from the food he carries over to the table. Only the fact that such a mood is incredibly unusual for him holds Madara's tongue until finally he watches the man fade back in to reality looking somehow even sadder than before. Wetness gathers and clings to his eyelashes, so different from the way he is normally given to massive crocodile tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

When he speaks again it is soft and solemn. His words are heavy with a pain that Madara both can and can’t understand, the pain of _almost_ in a way he’s never quite experienced, a pain borne in the name of another you cannot help.

“During the final battle between the Uchiha and the Senju, I’m sure you remember what stopped the fighting.”

“The apparition,” Madara breathes. He can hardly believe that he’s forgotten.

“It was no apparition.” Hashirama drops his gaze to the chopsticks before him, fiddling at the ends without picking them up. “That really was my Tobi. Older but the same. He- it was- it’s hard to explain. You know how smart he is and how he likes to research seals. Apparently years from now he will – did? – invent a seal allowing him to travel back in time and he used it to…to…”

Once more the words stop coming but this time Madara understands as he listens to Hashirama's voice crack and break on a muffled sob.

“Take your time,” he murmurs. He jolts when Hashirama finally meets his eyes, stomach clenching as he takes in the pain and helpless despair staring back at him. He has seen that look before. 

“He travelled back in time to kill himself.”

“ _What_!?” Madara sways in his seat with disbelief.

Hashirama brings his hands in close to wring them together. “It’s the truth! And he said the most awful things! Madara, he saved Izuna’s life that day. He – the one from the future – he said something about killing Izuna and that it ‘broke the world’. Said that he would rather kill himself so that I could keep my dream!”

So many different emotions and thoughts and reactions all clash together in Madara's chest he has to clamp one hand over his stomach for fear that it all might come spilling out over the table with shock. It’s too much to take in at once. He remembers that they’d had their speculations, of course, over what had really been going on that day. Yet he also remembers that it had seemed so unimportant in the face of peace, of lifelong dreams coming true, securing the future for his clan and the only brother left at his side.

“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” he mumbles. “There were two Tobirama because one was him from the future. He was trying to kill himself in the past.”

“Yes! That’s why he disappeared! Or that’s what Tobi says, anyway.”

“Right. And he was trying to kill himself because…he didn’t want…to kill Izuna? But he didn’t kill Izuna.” Madara scrunches his face with confusion, not entirely following. He distinctly remembers seeing his brother this morning and the man was most certainly not dead.

“No I know that. That’s the point. I told you it’s complicated!”

When all he does is cock his head to one side and frown Hashirama sighs and wrings his hands tighter.

“In the life that the older Tobirama lived he did kill Izuna in that battle. But because of that Izuna’s death somehow kicked off a different set of events that led to this village failing, I think. The destruction of my dream. So he came back in time to stop himself from killing Izuna…by killing himself instead. For me.” Another sob cracks his voice and Hashirama closes his eyes.

Madara can understand why. The reality of what he hasn’t known comes crashing down over his head like a mountain crumbling to bury him underneath the hurts he’s had no idea his friend is carrying around. It’s hard to decide what to freak out about first. Should he give in to the shadow of panic that Izuna dies in another world, would have in this one if not for the future’s intervention? Or should he close his eyes in solemn solidarity with the idea of having another love you so much they will damn themselves to lift you in to the light? Either way he has a very strong urge to go home and hug his brother tightly.

Although he isn’t sure he could bear to explain why at the moment.

“So he’s...what? Following Izu around and trying to find a way to apologize? Atone?” Guilt touches him for the way Hashirama flinches at his words but he needs to know as much as he can and this is a conversation he doesn’t wish to put his friend through a second time.

“No, I don’t think so.” Hashirama frowns. “I should have been paying more attention. He seemed to be doing so much better since we came here.”

“Well then what do you think he’s up to? There has to be some kind of reason he’s stalking my brother and I get that it’s probably connected to what happened but I can’t see exactly how.”

“If I know my brother then…then I think he’s trying to protect Izuna. He was so worried that something might still happen, convinced that if Izuna died in any way it would bring everything we’ve built crashing down. It would be so like him to take it upon himself to make sure that doesn’t happen. Oh, my Tobi…”

As Hashirama crumples in his seat Madara fights through the ever-increasing levels of shock keeping him rigid where he sits, dragging himself up out of the fog through sheer force of will to walk around the table and awkwardly pat his friend on the back. Comfort has never been a great skill of his. Trying to do it while he is still reeling himself leaves him feeling more awkward than ever but at least Hashirama seems to appreciate his graceless efforts. After taking a few deep breaths to collect himself the man turns to look up at him with shining grateful eyes that immediately send Madara scurrying back to his side of the table and practically throwing himself in to the chair as though it might shield him from any possibility of an unwarranted hug.

“Protecting him, that’s unexpected,” Madara admits once he is settled. “I think I might have jokingly suggested that but I would never have believed he was really playing guard dog.”

“My brother is not a guard dog!”

“He’s appointed himself as one,” he corrects, perhaps a bit harshly.

“Ah. Yeah. I suppose you’re right. He seemed to be doing so much better since we came to the village. And he was talking to me so well before, confiding. I never would have thought he’d slid back this far.” Hashirama shakes his head.

Loathe as Madara is to be the one pointing it out, he has to ask. “Are you sure he was confiding in you? Or was he just putting you off because he didn’t want you to carry his burdens?”

The widening of Hashirama's eyes tears at his heart and he is more than happy to let the conversation taper off for a short while, both of them eating in silence. He regrets starting their night off with such a terrible subject, mentally kicking himself for his lack of patience, making it even more of a relief when his friend eventually begins to haltingly murmur about something that happened at the tower that afternoon.

He does his best to be a better friend for the rest of their visit. By the time he goes home a couple of hours after dinner Hashirama has stopped looking as though he might burst in to tears at a moment’s notice, so there is that. Tobirama is probably in for a nasty surprise of a conversation when his brother catches up with him and yet Madara can’t bring himself to feel guilty for that. If the man truly is so caught up in his obsession it will probably do him some good to have the one he trusts most knock some sense in to that spiky head of his.

Walking home in the dark, Madara closes his eyes to let his feet continue on the path they know by heart while he stretches his senses out, picking through the confusing mass of signatures as best he can until he finds the one that burns the brightest in his eyes. It comes as no surprise to find Izuna waiting for him at home. Since he knows that his brother is probably waiting impatiently for the answers they’ve been wanting so badly he picks up his pace and hurries along, nodding to the voices that murmur greetings without stopping to chat as Hashirama has been encouraging him to do lately.

Building a rapport with their citizens can wait. This is a more immediate issue.

Izuna springs off the couch as soon as the front door opens, immediately freezing and sliding back down on to the cushions in an effort to seem as though he is only changing positions. Madara hopes he remembers to tease the idiot for that later.

“So how was dinner?” his brother murmurs with affected nonchalance.

“He knew the reason, to answer the question you really wanted to ask.”

Watching his younger sibling literally trip over his own feet trying to lunge off the couch a second time is just the sort of thing that Madara needs to lift his own mood after spending all evening trying to repair someone else’s. Izuna scowls and grumbles in to the tatami mats, crawling across to roll himself under the kotatsu blanket instead and glare until Madara joins him, wheezing with his efforts to contain the barks of laughter trying to spill out.

Amusement can only last so long in the face of such serious news, however. Only a minute or so after he sits down and tucks himself in Madara is talking a deep breath to sober himself again as he tries to sort through everything he’s learned and figure out how to pass it on.

Izuna listens with the sort of serious expression he normally reserves for war meetings and battlefields, brows drawn towards each other in a deep frown that wrinkles the sides of his mouth as well. Though it isn’t exactly surprising that he is able to keep himself from interrupting his silence is almost creepy considering how vocal he’s been about this entire affair since it started. All the frantic energy that he’s clearly been holding inside as he waits at home draining away slowly, bit by bit, gradually replaced by a different sort of tension with everything that Madara has to say. When the tale is over he crawls around the table to lean against his brother’s side.

“Well,” he murmurs, “at least he’s not secretly in love with me.”

“That’s all you have to say!?” Madara squawks.

“Honestly I don’t know what to say to any of that. Somehow the fate of this village rests of my survival? That’s a little strange to think about even if I can sort of imagine why.”

Brought up short, Madara looks down at the head nuzzling in to his shoulder. “You can?”

“Yeah, easily. If you lost me can you really say that you wouldn’t go a little ape shit?” Izuna looks up at him and waits until he concedes with a wry nod then adds, “Now imagine if you were somehow talked in to making peace with the man who killed me.”

The very thought makes him shudder. It’s impossible to imagine a world where he could allow himself to be somehow tricked in an action so terrible – and yet he realizes with a jolt that this is exactly what they have asked of both their clans, of every clan who agrees to move here and call themselves a shinobi of Konohagakure. All that differentiates himself from so many others is the penance he would pay for the powers gifted to him by the Sharingan. Izuna is right; the death of his most precious person would drive him over the brink of madness. Perhaps not right away but the descent would be inevitable from that moment and the process made faster if he were forced to interact with the one who took so much from him.

“So how do you want to handle this?” Madara asks, shaking away the what-ifs he hopes he never has to deal with.

“First thing I think I need to do is go scream in his stupid face. What the hell is he thinking? I mean this whole thing is crazy but if what he did to – what did you call it? – break the world was to kill me in that battle then when his older self came back through time to attempt sui-murder-cide then wouldn’t that have, like, changed the course of events right then? Things should be fine now. I think.” Scrunching up his brow, Izuna’s eyes fall to one side as he tries to think his way through what he’s just said.

Having had a few more hours to wrap his head around all these strange concepts gives Madara the confidence to nod that his sibling has spoken correctly. “That’s how I understand it.”

“Right, so then everything should be fine now. No need to panic. Definitely no need to be following me around like some overenthusiastic babysitter.”

“Be gentle. We both know that I’m the one who’ll have to listen to Hashirama if you aren’t.”

“No promises.” Izuna sits up straight with a sharp look in his eyes.

Madara rolls his own. “At least wait until tomorrow then. He’s probably going to have his hands full with his own brother tonight and I doubt either of us want to be around for that flood of tears.”

Pausing for both of them to shudder, Izuna leans over to rest against his shoulder again.

“Good point,” he admits. “I suppose it can wait until tomorrow. He’s always _right there_ when I get in to the tower so kami knows he probably comes looking for me in the mornings even before I think to check whether he’s around. The second I find him, though, he’s getting the third degree.”

“If you think you can pin him down long enough to listen then more power to you,” Madara scoffs.

As it turns out, the task is both easier and harder than either of them expect. For once in his life Tobirama comes when he’s called, stepping in to the office when Izuna hails him the next morning and looking entirely unperturbed to be shut in to a room with two determined looking Uchiha. Now that he knows to look for the signs Madara notices the man even relaxing a small bit. If not for what he’s learned recently he might never guess that relief is from seeing Izuna locked away safe from the rest of the world.

When the focus of his obsession demands to be left alone Tobirama refuses him flat out with no hesitation, not even a hint of surprise. Clearly there had indeed been another conversation the night before.

“I can handle myself,” Izuna groans after the two of them have gone in circles of demand and refusal several times.

“Your skill indeed is a close match to my own but this is not something I am willing to chance.”

“For fuck’s sake, _why_?”

Tobirama’s answer brings silence like the cutting edge of a blade.

“Your survival is essential to the survival of my brother’s dream and I will do whatever I have to in order to protect that. If that means I must give my life in place of yours then so be it.” For such profound words he speaks with the lightness of a man who has spent hours considering them. The ease of total belief in a chosen path.

In the wake of his declaration neither of the Uchiha siblings are able to find words for quite some time. Tobirama, strangely, waits contentedly as they try to find their bearings. Whether because he feels better here where he can keep an eye on the one he so desperately needs to protect or simply because he wants to get this over with now so no one will track him down again later, all he does is fold his arms and wait with the air of a man not particularly in a hurry to be anywhere else. Which is ridiculous. He probably has more to do than either of them put together. How he manages to complete his duties around all the stalking is just yet another mystery.

After several minutes have passed Izuna is the first to recover, visibly bracing himself to speak.

“For your brother, huh? I guess I can understand that motivation. I don’t like it, still think you’re insane and need some help, but I can understand. Look, if you’re going to follow me around like a creep anyway at least just come sit in the room with me or whatever.”

“What!?” Madara is jolted back in to motion with indignation. “You’re just going to let him keep stalking you!?”

“He’s going to do it anyway! At least if he stops pretending to be sneaky about it, I don’t know, it would just lower the creepy factor for me.” Izuna shrugs.

Tobirama’s head falls to one side as he contemplates the offer, a little dubious, but in the end all he does is nod and turn to leave without another word. He has an obsession but he also has things to do and when they’re all piled on top of each other here in the tower it’s only too easy for him to monitor Izuna’s chakra for any signs of distress or danger. Considering his sensitivity it would not be outside the bounds of his ability to keep track of every chakra signature that enters and leaves the tower to watch for possible threats.

“Are you insane?” Madara snaps the moment the door is closed, uncaring whether or not Tobirama can still hear them through the wood. His sibling rubs at the space between his brows with a long suffering expression.

“Maybe, who knows? I meant it when I said I could sort of understand his motivation but…think about it. Rather than following behind all the time or hiding in the shadows, if he’s there in the room then it would all feel a lot more normal.” The hand falls for his eyes to linger on the doorway. “And if he’s there in the room then maybe we can show him that I really can handle myself. There’s nothing for him to worry about. Or maybe convince him to get help or some shit.”

The two of them share a look. Madara holds the other’s eyes for as long as he can but in the end he is forced to concede to this as well. It isn’t like he has any better plans himself.

Eventually Izuna wanders off back to his own office as well, leaving Madara alone to stand by the window and look out over the buildings around them without truly seeing anything. All he sees is the sky, blue and never-ending, a freedom he might never have been able to admire again if not for the last piece of his family left in this world. Izuna isn’t the only one who can see merit in Tobirama’s motivations, hard as that is to admit.

Something dark and heavy lies faint on the edge of the horizon, a storm that looks to be coming their way. As he examines the shape of it Madara can’t help his inner Hashirama from comparing it to the climate hanging over the near future. Life promises to be very strange for a while, stranger even than it has been for the last few months, and it chafes that none of them can predict what the outcome will be. He knows as well as any farmer that a storm does not have to be a bad thing. Crops need the rain, summer heat needs to be broken, assassination targets need to be driven off the road in to vulnerable places like roadside inns. Many things might follow a storm.

He can only hope that when the rains pass the sun will come again for all of them. Strangely, against everything he has been raised to believe, he finds himself hoping the same for Tobirama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already started on the next installment for the series, though it's definitely going to be much shorter than this one. Just a single missing scene from this story that I think is important.


End file.
